Eschewal
by review-bunny
Summary: Sam and Dean awaken after Devil's Trap with very different perspectives. Rated T. One shot, unless people would like a sequel.


**Obligatory Disclaimer:** Surprise! I don't own Supernatural. Betcha thought I did (not)! If I did, the boys would fight a whole lot more water demons (speedos, board shorts, bare chests) and sauna demons (just a skimpy towel... if that) and would frequently have to go undercover as underwear models (oh, I can't even go there). If anyone wants to see that happen, well... buy them for me for Christmas, please!

**Spoiler Alerts: **This takes place right after the end of "Devil's Trap", so it's a bit spoilery for that. Other than that, it has some references to "Nightmare". Umm, to be safe, let's say it is spoilery for Season 1. Whew. That takes the pressure off!

**Other Stuff: ** So, this is my first story posted into this fandom, or anywhere for that matter. I've left a few reviews but decided it was time to put myself out there. So, since my alias is "review bunny", I should warn you that this has not been beta read, and it's a bit choppy (I'm being nice to myself here). The time slices are little forced, but I'm hoping you can follow them. My inclination is to hold off on posting it and edit and edit and edit, but knowing me, it would never see the light of day that way. So, in all its imperfection, here it is. I'm very open to comments, criticism, cheers and jeers.

**Warnings**: There's some bad language in here, but nothing that I think wouldn't appear in the show. Also, there's some good natured joking about homosexual themes. No, I don't have the brothers bumping bits... gazes off dreamily . Sorry, got distracted there for a minute. There's no slash in here, just the type of humor that was somewhat evident in the episode "Bugs". Oh, good thing I said this was spoilery for all Season 1, huh?

I think all this is longer than the story. I really hate that.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes slowly at first, and then blinked a few times, attempting to clear his blurry vision. His breath came in shallow, rapid pants. Raising his hand to his face to rub his eyes, he felt moisture and pulled his hand back, dimly seeing a smear of blood across his fingers. Time slowed to a crawl for Sam as awareness returned. Every ache and pain in his body fired one by one, demanding attention. 

He swallowed thickly and inhaled deeper, trying to get enough air to speak, but his ribs and lungs exploded in pain. He fought through it, struggling to stay conscious, and finally forced one word out of his mouth. "Dean?"

No response came. No teasing retort telling him to suck it up. No relieved sigh that Sam had woken up, no whispering of Sam's name that sound like a prayer had been answered and big brother could breathe easy once again.

Sam tried to turn his head to look in the back seat, but couldn't even get a small glimpse of Dean. He did see his father though, his head resting against the car door, blood seeping from a wound on his forehead and dripping into his eyes. Sam noticed his father's chest rise and fall, and knew that his father still had life in him, at least for the moment.

Steeling himself against the pain in his ribs, Sam pulled himself forward using the steering wheel, gasping against the pain. He twisted in his seat, biting back a scream only partially as his ribs contorted. His eyes slammed shut against the pain, a black shroud threatening his consciousness like the closing curtain in a damnable play.

With shuddering gulps of air, he opened his eyes again and catching sight of Dean lying in the back seat, tossed against the rear door like a broken toy, Sam only wanted to smash them shut again and obliterate the image from his mind.

Dean was dead and Sam's heart had just stopped beating.

The barest of movements fluttered in Dean's neck, and Sam's eyes seized upon it. Dean's lean throat, free of any fat, flickered once more. Sam's own heart stuttered in response.

Dean's heart beat slowly, very slowly, but not for long, stalling without oxygen.

Time tumbled forward suddenly at a break neck pace. Sam moved just as quickly.

"Dean!" he yelled, the fiery pain from what he quickly dismissed as a punctured lung forgotten. He pushed the driver's door open and fell out of the car, scrambling on the ground to the rear passenger door, to Dean. Sam distantly heard screaming and a remote part of his mind realized it came from his own throat. Whether it arose from his pain or the fear of losing Dean didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered but Dean.

Sam flung the rear door open recklessly, too recklessly, and scrambled to catch his brother as he tilted out of the back seat toward the ground. Sam grabbed him and pulled him further out in a safe descent to the flat road and pressed his lips to Dean's and blew air in quickly, panicking when Dean's chest didn't rise. Countless hours of drills flood his mind and remembered he needed to tilt his brother's neck to open the airway and he quickly did so, and this time as he blew air in to Dean's mouth, he also remembered to pinch Dean's nose shut. Dean's blood-soaked chest rose slightly, and Sam felt hot, hopeful tears cascade down his cheeks. He blew in two more quick breaths and then pulled back to check for a pulse.

Sam found it only by sheer luck and the memory of exact placement of his fingers, countless hours of CPR and first aid drills now a blessed event. Dean's chest remained unmoving, and Sam lowered his mouth again to deliver two more quick puffs of air.

"Ah, isn't that sweet?" a voice belittled. "You know, I always thought you two were a little too close, even for brothers."

Sam looked up into the yellowed-eyes of a stranger's face, fear and dread clutching at his chest and squeezing out all hope.

* * *

"Sammy?" Dean moaned, even before he had opened his eyes. When he finally did force his lids open, looking up at the roof of the Impala confused him. He raised himself into a more seated position and fleetingly noticed the absence of pain while he looked for Sam, who should have been in the driver's seat. He spotted his father and called out sharply to him. "Dad! Dad!" 

He reached his hand forward to see if his father had a pulse and watched his hand pass right through his father's neck. Dean looked at his hand in confusion and then tried again.

"Well, ain't that a bitch? I'm a friggin' ghost."

After watching for a moment and seeing his father's chest rise and fall a few times, knowing that meant he was holding his own at the moment, he stepped out of the car, at least relieved that even if he had died, Sam had made it through and had probably gone for help. Dean stepped out through the open rear door of the Impala and glanced forlornly at the twisted wreck of metal that remained. "Oh baby," Dean said softly. "If there's any justice, there's gonna be a ghost version of you, too. Can't go around without my favorite girl, can I?"

Shuffled and indistinct sounds, intermixed with what sounded like wheezy breathing, drew Dean's attention behind him. There he saw Sam kissing a man on the ground.

"Sammy! What the hell are you doing?" he bellowed as he stepped closer and then recognized himself lying on the ground beneath Sam. "Dude! Get off me!" he ordered, ignoring the fact that he had a body, over there on the ground, and he wasn't with it.

He watched Sam reposition his head and then bend down to breathe into Dean's body again. Dean tried shoving Sam away, but his arms passed right through his brother as well. "Dude, you better salt and burn my body, 'cause I'm am so haunting your ass for this."

"Ah, isn't that sweet?"

Dean whirled and saw the yellow eyes of a possessed man approaching.

"You know, I always thought you two were a little too close, even for brothers."

Dean reacted, as always. He charged the demon, ready to do anything to protect his little brother, and ran right through the demon's host.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean muttered.

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

Startled, Dean looked up into the face of Max Miller. "Can this day get any worse?" Dean got up off the ground quickly, wary of Max, not knowing if his telekinetic abilities transferred with him in death, and then remembered he was already dead so Max couldn't do much to him. Dean saw the demon continue to walk towards Sam and only about 15 feet now separated them. He moved to intercept the demon again, but Max's hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

"Don't, Dean. You can't help him right now, this is up to Sam." Max's eyes drifted towards Sam, who stood up to face the coming evil.

"I can always help Sam," Dean whispered, and shrugged off Max's grip.

"Not this time, Dean. Sam can save himself, as well as save you."

Dean looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean, save me?"

"You aren't dead, Dean. Not yet, anyway. And not at all if Sam saves you."

* * *

"Get away from us," Sam shouted, torn between the need to give Dean another mouthful of air and the need to keep his eyes on the demon. 

"So it's just you and me now, little Sammy." The demon stopped and smiled. "You had the chance, Sammy, could have ended me right back there with your father. You and Dean could have left and maybe he'd be at a hospital right now, instead of lying dead at your feet."

"He's not dead," Sam whispered, and then regretted revealing that, glancing down just marginally, hoping that Dean had started breathing on his own, but still his chest did not rise.

"Oh, so I can have a little more fun at his expense then," the demon chuckled maliciously. "I owe you a little payback, Sam, for trying to kill me, after all. And once your father and brother are puddled in little bleeding bits around us, you and I can have some fun."

Sam took a deep breath and took his hands from his brother's body, his heart aching as he did so, a silent prayer slipping past his lips. Sam stood up shakily, an arm wrapped around his ribs. "Not gonna happen," he mumbled.

"Oh, is psychic boy going to give it another try?" the demon mocked, clearing dismissing Sam's chances.

* * *

"What do you mean?" 

Max sighed. "You're still alive. Can't you tell?"

"Max, my body is over there, and I'm right here. What am I supposed to think?"

Max sighed again and lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to ground, "this is gonna take awhile."

"I don't have a while, you ass. That demon is about to kill Sam. And my father is probably next."

"Time works a little different here, Dean. We have as much time as need." Max pointed over at the demon, who now seemed almost frozen in place, barely moving at all. "Now, can you listen for a bit?"

Dean stared at the demon a moment longer and then back at Max, who sat serenely on the ground in front of him, nothing at all like the tortured young man he had been in life. "You're a lot different now, aren't you?"

Max smiled. "Death gives you a lot of time to work out your issues, if you want. Or, you don't and you end up something worse. Fortunately, my mom showed up and gave me some pointers."

"Your mom?" Dean looked around quickly. "Is my mom…?"

Max shook his head and looked down at his pants, flicking off imaginary lint. "No, sorry."

"But why?" Dean asked, heartbreak coloring his features.

"Dean, I'm here to help you so that you can help Sam. We don't have time for everything. I'm here because I want to see that son of a bitch die. He's killed a lot of moms, Dean, not just yours and mine. And he's killed a lot of kids, too."

"And you can tell me how to kill him?"

"No. Killing him – that's Sam's job, I hope. But you need to help Sam, or he'll never get the chance."

Dean stared at Max, a myriad emotions battling for dominance in his head - sorrow that his mother hadn't come, disappointment that he wouldn't kill the demon, fear for his little brother. Dean shoved it all aside, because as always, it came down to one thing – protecting Sam. "What do I do?"

* * *

Sam swayed on his feet and risked another glance down at Dean, knowing that only he stood between his brother and death, and the tightrope he walked between the two stretched thinner and thinner. 

"You will not hurt him." Sam felt stronger as he said the words, feeling the weight of his responsibility to save his brother settle in. His ribs stopped burning and he stood a little straighter.

"You think you can stop me? You're pathetic." The demon stepped closer, grinning, raising an arm and pointing it at Dean.

"No!" Sam cried, and felt something like a tearing in his groin as he felt something come out of his body like a punch, headed straight for the demon. Sam watched as the demon flew back about 20 feet and landed in a pile of tangled limbs.

* * *

"Look at your body, Dean. It'll be your strongest connection, right now. Try to see the light that surrounds your body." 

"Is this that aura crap?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Dean, it's that aura crap, and you need to learn it quickly if you want to help Sam," Max chastened. "Now focus."

Dean looked at his body, and suppressed his fear at seeing that the demon had taken a few steps closer to Sam while they had spoken. He knew that he really didn't have time for stubbornness. He focused his eyes on the space surrounding his body and saw a brief shimmer of color near his throat, flickering in and out, along with a few other colors spaced out along his body.

"I see something, colors flickering. Mostly blue around my throat," he told Max.

"That's your throat chakra, Dean. For you, it's your strongest one. Though I think you use it solely for sweet talking women," Max smiled.

Dean looked at him. "Chakras? I thought that was just more crap."

"Isn't it funny how you've accepted demons completely, but you dismiss so much else so easily?"

"Look, I'm not going to sit here and get lectured by some freak of nature," Dean felt a twinge of guilt saying that, thinking of Sam, "that killed himself. It's not like you are so wise."

"You're right. But I've watched you and Sam since I died and spent time trying to figure out what made Sam and me different. I've learned a lot since then," Max said sadly. "Now, focus on your body again."

Dean did, and noticed his colors had grown slightly, flickering less. "They're stronger now."

Max nodded. "That's Sam's doing, and he doesn't even know that he's doing it," a touch of amazement in his voice. "Look at Sam now, Dean."

Dean shifted his gaze to Sam and was startled by the bright colors swirling along his brother's body. "Wow."

"Yeah. Partly that's because he's not halfway dead, like you. Yours are normally stronger than they are right now. But Sam's special. Even more special than I was."

* * *

Sam knelt down quickly to Dean's side, wanting to give him another few mouthfuls of air before the demon returned, but stopped short when he saw Dean's chest rise slightly on its own. "Dean," he breathed. 

"You're just prolonging the inevitable, Sammy. You will be mine." The demon had already returned, even closer now.

"I will never be yours, never." Sammy felt the strangeness in his body swell out once more, a current passing through like lightening, coiled and ready to strike like a viper. He thought of Dean, and vowed that the demon would not touch him.

He raised his eyes to meet those of the demon's, and the demon took a step back.

* * *

Dean saw that Sam had a bluish purple light on his forehead, blazing even stronger than the others. 'Is that why he sees stuff? Has visions? That blue or purple or whatever?" 

Max nodded. "Indigo. But that's not important right now. First, look at the colors extending from Sam towards you, Dean. See the green? Sam doesn't even know it, but he's pumping your heart right now, Dean. He's expanding and contracting your lungs so that you'll breathe. And he's making the most critical of injuries, the internal ones the demon inflicted, lessen. He's saving your life."

Dean frowned. "But Sam's never done anything like that before. He just gets freaky ass visions, and he moved that cabinet that one time. That's it."

Max looked over at Dean's body. "Funny that you have so few scars, isn't it? That you've gotten some pretty bad facial injuries, but the women still swoon over that unblemished mug of yours." Max noticed Dean's paling face. "And let's not forget about the number of life-threatening injuries you've had, and somehow you've bounced back and saved the day, ready to take on another big bad evil in no time. Funny, don't you think?"

"Well, I'll be damned. He's never going to let me live this down."

"Oh, it gets better."

* * *

Sam felt nauseous, the churning feelings inside him unsettling him, threatening to overwhelm him. Power stormed within him, and he watched the demon take a step back. 

Sam wondered if this is what Max felt like, if this is what drove Max to lose control. And how much worse would it be if Sam lost control, considering the demon had just opted to move to safer distance.

Fear clutched at Sam, and suddenly the power dissipated, and he saw the demon grin.

* * *

Dean started forward when the demon advanced on Sammy, but jumped back as the lights in Sammy's body flared, starting with a red light burning brightly at the base of his torso, followed by an orange near his stomach, and then a yellow. Green soared out of his chest, and then blue near his throat. Indigo inflamed his forehead, and then purple blazed from top of his head. 

"Whoa."

Dean watched in fascination as time sped up near Sam and the demon, and Sam's colors pulsed like a solar flare, arcing towards the demon, launching him into the air and onto his ass, far away from Sam and his body.

"That's it! Kick his ass, Sammy!"

Dean's cheers died in his throat when he saw Sam ignore the demon and lean down over his body. "Oh dude, do NOT kiss me again. Just can't pass up the opportunity for a chick flick moment, can you, little brother? And it's really not helping that you are rainbow-colored at the moment."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief when Sam pulled away. "That's it, Sammy. Fight the demon, kiss me later."

Max looked at him sharply and Dean cringed as his phrasing sunk in.

"I did not just say that, do you understand?" Dean threatened. "I don't care if you are already dead, I'll kill you again."

Max let it go, seeing Sam shift in intensity. "Pay attention, Dean. You need to see this." He pointed at Sam.

Sam colors brightened once more, overlapping each other and joining each other, colors swimming in and out and then joining together as a solid white glow that suffused his body.

"Now, _THAT_'s what makes Sam special, Dean. That's why the demon wants him so bad."

Dean stared at Sam, riveted at the site. "It's unbelievable. He's… he's like an angel – minus the wings."

Max smiled at him. "Don't go there, Dean. That's a whole other discussion, best saved for another time. Besides, what's about to happen is the most important thing you need to see."

Dean's eyes hadn't left his brother. "More than this?" he smiled, watching the demon almost stagger back from the glow.

And then Dean saw it, the flickering of the light as it lost power, fragmenting down into its base colors, and then the colors quieting down to a mere shadow of their former glory.

"What happened?"

"He's scared, Dean. Scared of what he'll become – scared he'll become like me." A sorrowful look swept through Max's face, but was quickly replaced by determination. "It's what always stops him from using his powers. But you've seen it, Dean. You know it's not bad or evil, and you know how important it is that Sam use it, that Sam fights evil like this."

Dean nodded mutely, terrified as the demon smiled triumphantly and stepped closer.

"Go back, Dean. Sam has healed you enough. All you have to do is want to be back in your body and you will be."

Dean closed his eyes. "Sammy," Dean breathed.

* * *

"Sammy." 

Sammy tore his gaze from the approaching demon and saw his brother open his eyes. "Dean!" and he started to drop to his knees.

"No, Sammy! You have to fight." Dean's eyes were open, but he moved his head back and forth, his vision not clear enough to see his brother.

"Fight?" the demon crowed. "His fight is gone, psychic boy fails again."

Dean had to think quickly, knowing he wouldn't have time to argue with Sam. So he'd have to lie. "I saw Mom."

"What?" Sam looked even more shaken up, if possible. "What did she say?"

Dean hated himself for doing this to his brother, knowing that false hope glowed in Sammy's eyes. "Mom says you have to let the power happen, Sammy. She said not to fear it. You're special and you're not like Max. Let it happen, Sammy."

Sam shook his head, terror written on his face. "You don't understand," and then Sam launched into the air, flying back and landing against the Impala, all from the flick of Demon's risk.

"Enough of the crappy chick flick movie, boys. It's time for the action part of tonight's entertainment." He hooked his fingers into a claw shaped and raked them through the air, directed at Dean's chest.

Dean felt the invisible claws pierce his chest once more and he screamed. "Sammy! Help me!" He gasped in agony. "Please, Sammy! Do it for me! I believe in you, I know you'll save me," he ground out before collapsing back into unconsciousness.

The demon laughed and moved his hands in the air, intent on torturing Dean a little more, but found he arm stuck in the air for the moment, before he felt his feet leave the ground and he sailed back in the air, colliding with the ground a few feet away.

He saw Sammy stand up, eyes blazing solid white, no pupil visible. "Leave my brother alone."

* * *

"Wake up, Dean." 

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, realizing he was halfway in his body, at least from the waist down.

"Oh, man. Am I really dead this time?"

"Nope, you just passed out. But I thought you'd want to see this." Max pointed to Sam, who blazed like a white hot sun.

* * *

Sam heard Dean begging for him to help him, and Sam knew he'd do anything to help Dean, even damn his own soul if necessary. 

He felt the power build up in him again, less tearing this time and Sam didn't fight against it, didn't worry. He'd trust in Dean, as always.

And moments later, Sam stood at the brink of the power, knowing one more step would cross him over. Sam saw Dean's eyes drift close, and he took the step.

Power surged through his body and Sam felt he could do anything. He looked down and saw white light suffusing every bit of his being. He set his focus on the demon, and pushed out with the energy, watching it strike the demon and send him flying.

Sam walked over to Dean and brushed his brother's chest with glowing white hands and nodded in satisfaction as the deepest injuries closed up, not yet fully healed, but enough to get Dean out of danger.

* * *

"Well, that outta come in handy in our line of business." 

"Don't get used to this, Dean. Sam's running on sheer terror at the moment, letting him do things he couldn't normally do."

"Like adrenaline?"

Max nodded. "Yeah, something like that. It's going to take work and practice to be able to do these things again when his life, or your life, isn't on the line. It took me months to get my telekinesis under control, and I practiced every chance I got. Plus, Sam's got a lot more to control than I ever did."

"You think you're strong enough to take me on child?" the demon challenged.

Dean looked at the demon and realized he could see an aura there as well, two in fact. One from the possessed human, weak and struggling, and another sickly aura, dark with anger and hatred, but Dean also detected more than a trace of fear.

"It's time to end this," Sam declared. Dean watched as Sam's white light shot out and seized the demon's host body, and then grew in size and intensity, the light seeping out along the truck driver's body.

Dean saw the demon's aura flinch and retreat from the light, and then spill out of the man's mouth and up into the sky.

"Damn, he got away."

Max nodded. "This time he did, Dean. There'll be another chance, and Sam needs to be ready for him. It's up to you to get him ready for it. To accept who he is and what he can do."

"How?"

"No time, Dean. Now, back to your body."

"But…" Dean's protest cut off as he plummeted back down into his own body.

* * *

Dean's eyes fluttered open, and he saw only white. 

"Sammy? Is that you?"

A dark vague shape appeared in his line of sight. "Dean?" a tired voice asked.

Dean blinked a few times and his vision cleared, the walls of a hospital room appearing and his brother's face hovering above him, though everything was still fuzzy.

"Sammy? You okay?"

Sam smiled, but exhaustion kept the corners of his mouth from rising very high. "Yeah. How about you?"

Dean blinked a few more times, trying to get the fuzziness to go away. "Fine. What about Dad?"

"Dad's fine, he's in the room next door. He had to have surgery and will be laid up for a while, but he'll be fine." Sam noticed Dean still blinking. "Is your vision okay, Dean? Can you see me?" Dean could hear the notes of hysteria and guilt in Sam's voice, with a harmony of worry that he hadn't done enough to save his older brother.

"I'm fine, Sam. I can see you." Dean blinked a few more times and the room swam into sharp focus, and Dean suddenly saw colors floating around Sam's body. "Oh man, I can see you." Sam's colors swirled very slowly, looking muted and tired, much like Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I don't look that bad."

Dean looked around the room, unsure if he was in his body or not, but if Sam was talking to him, he had to be.

Sam looked at him in concern, seeing Dean's eyes dart around the room.

"Chill man, you're alive and in your body."

Dean's eyes slid to the corner of the room where he saw Max standing there, arms folded across his chest smugly.

"Oh man."

"Dean? What's wrong? Are you okay" Sam asked, sounding just like the little boy who used puppy dog eyes and forlorn tears to force Dean to sit through six-year-old style first aid treatments when Dean skinned his knee. The type that involved a whole bottle of rubbing alcohol, a bag of cotton balls, about a yard of white gauze, and ten or so Band-Aids… even though the scratch was minor and had already stopped bleeding.

Dean looked back at Sam and tiredly opened his arms, knowing only one thing would get Sam to stand down off the edge. "You're burning up your chick flick moment allowance for the whole year with this one, Sammy."

Sam smiled and launched himself into his brother's chest, into the waiting hug. A small gasp from Dean reminded him to be more careful. "I'm so sorry you're hurt, Dean. I should have been able to stop him at the cabin."

Sam's head had found a niche right at Dean's neck, and purple haze obscured Dean's vision. "Dude, back off on the purple will you?"

"What?" Sam asked in confusion, raising his eyes to meet Dean's.

"Nevermind, I'll explain later. Sam, this wasn't your fault, not any of it. All the blame belongs to that demon. And you did great. You saved all of us."

"But…"

"No buts, Sammy. Besides, your chick flick moment is officially over, now get off me." Dean pushed at Sam, but not before giving him a tight squeeze.

Sam stood up, eyes shiney. "Dean, I need to talk about…"

"I know, Sammy, but not yet, okay. I gotta figure some things out first." Inspiration struck. "Hey, Sammy? Why don't you go tell Dad that I'm awake, I'm sure he'll want to know."

Sam looked reluctant to leave him, but agreed. "I'll be right back," Sam said, holding his wrapped ribs with one arm as he left the room.

"Whatcha gonna tell him, Dean?" Max asked. "And by the way, dude, that's violet, not purple."

"Everything, I'll tell him everything," Dean answered. Though Dean knew he'd take the lie about their mother to his grave. He couldn't handle the hurt the Sam's eyes if he let that cat out of the bag. "And by the way, dude, gay much?"

Max chuckled. "Whatever, I wasn't the one kissing my brother."

Dean almost called him a bitch, but stopped at the last moment, knowing that was reserved just for Sam. "Ass."

"Haley Joel," Max smirked.

"Damn it! This is so not fair. Sam's supposed to have all the freaky crap. Not me. Why am I seeing you, anyway? Are you haunting me? 'Cause I'll salt and burn your ass."

Max laughed and uncrossed his arms, stepping out of the corner. "Too much time out of your body, I'd guess. And since I saved you and Sam, you owe me. You can just think of me as… your ghostly guardian angel."

"Oh man – you are so gay."

Max smirked again. "I'll try to keep the visits while you are in the shower to a minimum, John Edwards."

"Don't you dare!" Dean howled, swing a wild fist at the space where Max had just stood before vanishing.

"Dean? Who are you talking to?" Sam asked from the doorway.

"It's a long story, Sammy."

"It's Sam."

Dean looked at the happy green centered on Sam's heart. "Whatever, Sammy," Dean smiled.

* * *

Thanks for reading! 

I'd really appreciate a review if you could spare a moment. Thanks!

Oh - one last thing. If you're familiar with chakras, you're probably nashing your teeth over my cavalier treatment of the subject. However, this was getting pretty damn expository as it was, and I didn't want it to be a lecture series entitled "You and Your Chakras". Hope you understand. Feel free to leave me a comment either way hint, hint . Thanks!

RB 


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